A Shattered Brotherhood
by TangentTeam
Summary: The year 1476AD, a man is tasked with an order that will fulfil his lust for vengeance, but when it comes down to it can he follow through, or will the chains of his past hold him back? (Author: TangentTwo) (More tags will be added as necessary the further in the story.)
1. Chapter I: The Order's command

A/N: Well fuck, I've written another story, and this time I'm trying something different and hope it works well, enjoy you cunts. -Two

* * *

TangentTwo: ***Gazes along the horizon***

TangentOne: Two, what the fuck are you doing up there?

Two is sat up on a perch, almost a kilometer high and supported by unseen strings.

TangentTwo: I am watching my domain. ***A bird caws in the background***

TangentOne: Alright then. Honestly I've no idea how I haven't gone insane yet.

One takes his leave back to the Tangential Household.

TangentTwo: ***Barely audible whisper*** We will rectify that in the coming days.

* * *

Chapter I

The Order's Command

* * *

Fleet Road, home to the Order and my home ever since I was betrayed by those I thought of as family. The very fact I have been summoned sends my mind racing with anticipation, as only one thing could have them bring me from my current orders. I walk up to the mansion and knock twice on the door, waiting for the servants of the Order to answer and inform me whether the members of the Inner Sanctum are ready to see me. A man of about fifty years answers the door, opening it wide and bowing slightly towards me.

"Good morning Ser Braydon, I believe the Lord is waiting for you in the great hall along with the rest of the council." His tone is filled with respect as I pass him with only a nod.

I make my way through the main hall passing all of the other servants, each bowing as I pass. I take the grand stairs up to the great doors atop of them, flanked by two guards and a servant waiting patiently to open them. The door creaks open inch by inch as the elderly servant pushes it inwards, revealing the council all sitting in their places and their eyes focused on the door awaiting my arrival.

"Ser Braydon, the Council is glad you could make it on such a short notice. We commend you on your recent efforts for the Order, and it all but proves your worth of the very ring you wear now." An Elderly man voices from the head of the table, Grandmaster Roland Gilbert.

I bow deeply before resuming my walk into the room. "Thank you, Grandmaster, it is as always a pleasure to serve." I stop at the empty end of the table, standing with proper eloquence.

The room is the pinnacle of disparity between the rich and poor, showing off all types of ornaments and gems throughout the continents. Even one who is lucky enough to consider themselves rich would feel like a beggar in this mansion. The Orders paraphernalia was present on the large mahogany table and hanging over the large golden curtains that hung over the large windows. Each of the Lords present wore their finest formal attire, not wanting to be outdone by the room itself.

My attire is that of an assassin, but with a few changes to show my loyalty lies not with the assassins but the Order. The biggest of which was instead of the white worn by those of the Brotherhood, mine is black with red accents and a red sash across my midsection covered mostly by a dark leather sash with sheaths for throwing knives. On either of my arms were excellently crafted leather gauntlets, the same as colour as the sash, with the forearm covered by scale mail. My boats mirrored my gauntlets in colour and craftsmanship, with the same scale mail covering the front.

Sitting to the right of Grandmaster Roland is my mentor and master, Lord Rhys Moore. He brought me into the Order when I was at my lowest and gave me a purpose, to save the very world from itself.

"Well done Braydon, thanks to you the next decade is ensured to follow our plans. You have done well by me." My mentor congratulates me, letting formalities slip slightly. "Now, if Grandmaster Roland will allow me, we have a mission I'm sure you will enjoy."

The rest of the council chirps in agreement, as Grandmaster Roland sits with an ever stoic face, I can only assume contemplating my mission or how I will react to it. I have never once questioned an order or declined a mission and the sudden calling of this mission must be putting him on edge. He has put a lot of resources into my growth and if I dare decline any order by him is to jeopardise my own position in the Order.

On the left of the Grandmaster is Lord Christopher Livingston, a noble from the north of England. He has all but provided the Order with ores of all kind singlehandedly and holds a large amount of sway with the council.

"Ser Braydon, this mission will require all of your training and time to fulfil. We have most of the information you will need for it, the rest is up to you." The portly Lord Christopher adds to the conversation while stroking his mighty beard.

Again the lords all voice their agreeance of his words as finally, Grandmaster Roland holds up his hand to silence the room. A minute of silence follows once the room falls quiet, Grandmaster Roland is choosing his words and making sure the atmosphere suits them.

"You are to seek out and completely destroy the British Brotherhood of Assassins. They have posed a threat for too long to our plans and now is the time for you to deliver our justice upon them." The Grandmaster commands, his aura of authority filling the entire room placing all on edge including me. "Once the Assassins are dealt with, you will bring me the head of their Mentor or failing that Brandon Edwards. Their pesky lot will die out with either of them gone."

I bow deeply for the second time this meeting. "Yes, Grandmaster, their Brotherhood will not last past the new year, of that, I promise you and the Order."

The elder man nods sagely, as does the rest of the council present. Lord Rhys stands and makes his way around the large table to stand to the side of his apprentice.

"Of that, I have no doubt, I will escort you out and have the information we have collected on their whereabouts and their activities sent to your accommodation." His praise fills me with a sense of pride, something I had never been given by my former family.

He then extends his hand, to which I quickly mirror the gesture, turning to face him and taking hold of his hand firmly and relaxing after a swift shake.

"I understand." I then turn myself to face the rest of the council again. "Thank you for this mission, I will take my leave now unless you have further need of me, Grandmaster?"

"You may go, we have further matters to discuss and we do not wish to keep you from your orders." Grandmaster Roland confirms as he turns to start discussions with the rest of the council.

Lord Rhys and I turn and make a rather swift exit from the hall, striding down the great stairs and out of the mansion entirely. Once outside, a horse-drawn carriage appears in the busy streets, on the carriage was the crest of Lord Rhys house along with adornments of gold leaf and other fancy patterns. A servant walks up to the carriage and opens up the side doors, continually holding it open until we situate ourselves inside of it. The inside of the carriage was as luxurious as the outside, lined with red silk and plump goose feather pillows.

The ride back to my accommodations is long, as the streets of London were as busy as they had ever been, filled with peasants cleaning up their waste and merchants peddling their wares. It took longer than expected but upon arrival, Lord Rhys looks to me and hands me a sword.

"Braydon, this sword was mine as a lad, may it serve you as it had me." He articulates letting me take it from his grasp. "Above all make sure to use it to kill that damned Mentor of theirs."

"I will, Lord Rhys, if it's the last thing I do." I vow placing the sword on my belt and exiting the carriage. "Now go, the Grandmaster won't see you late."

As soon as the words leave my mouth the carriage is off again, back to the Grandmasters mansion for the rest of the council's meeting.

* * *

A few hours pass with relative ease as I wait for the information to be delivered to me. I spend the short amount of free time on a range of jobs from sharpening my daggers and throwing knives and working on repairing my armour and clothes.

After the fifth hour a knock on my door occurred, and after a moment a man walks inside. With him is two of the Order's servants with large books of information which I can only assume contains the information for my mission. The man at the head is well dressed, though not to the same degree as the council, in fine silk and velvet. Around his neck is the Order's regalia, being hit by the candlelight and showing its true beauty.

"Ser Braydon, do accept my apologies as I was ordered to come right in as this information is very sensitive and cannot be left outside of a secure place." The man bows once he arrives in front of me.

"It is okay, I understand the scope of this mission. Now, tell me what resources are at my disposal, any subordinates or am I to do this alone?" I question the man gesturing to the servants to place the books on my desk.

"The resources at your disposal are as such, you are given control over any members of the Order wherever your missions take you." He answers picking himself up from his bow. "I shall leave you to take in the information if you need anything else please don't hesitate to call, Ser Braydon."

"Good, you may leave." I encourage more than suggest as the man retreats out of the door followed by the servants.

As the wooden door closes I turn my attention to my desk, filled with both large books and many other papers and writing equipment. I stride over to in and open up the first book, its contents are names and favoured locations of every high ranking assassin in the British Brotherhood. Every assassin is detailed in full, from the weapons they favour in a battle to their family and known acquaintances. I flip through the book, taking in the names of my prey and seeing the faces of those I've encountered on my missions for the Order. After a few minutes of page turning, I stop on the page of the Brotherhood's highest ranking assassin other than the mentor himself, Brandon Edwards.

Brandon Edwards, a man who is known to do all he can to oppose the Order's growth in the British Isles, even going to such lengths as to force diplomatic breakdowns with other Rites in the Order. His page indicates that he's been in and out of the country recently, offering his assistance to other brotherhoods and singlehandedly stopping Order operations while there. Like the rest of the pages, no image or sketch showing his appearance only minor notes as to any notable feature, if there was any to list. The assassins were very good at hiding themselves, not that it will save them from my wraith.

* * *

I spend a week memorizing everything in the books given to me, looking at every major assassin, anyways to start the process of dismantling them and which ways will prove most effective. After deep contemplation, I start my journey and head for the city of Bristol, a heaven of Brotherhood activity. According to the information, I've been given the Brotherhood is planning to assassinate the currently Lord in favour of one they have sponsored, effectively cutting the Order's influence over Bristol and the county. The arrangements for the journey took less than a day to make, having access to the best methods of travel in the world really makes the difference.

I arrive at the port of London, taking in the site of one of the largest ports in all of Europe. Cranes line all of the docks, with cargo and other goods all along the piers. Ships of all types are docked, from Italian galleys to the British Carracks, most being used for trading while some belonged to the Royal Navy. Vast amounts of people fill in the cracks left vacant making it easy for anyone to become lost. I push past the crowds and make my way the only dock without any cargo or large groups of people. The only things present is the crew of the ship and the ship itself.

The ship in question was a cog, a single-masted flat bottom vessel mainly used to transport troops in war times or short trade ventures. At the top of the mast was the flag of England and below that, the symbol of the Order. I stride over to a man, stood directly in front of the ramp to the ship. The man is dressed in typical seaman attire, but on deeper inspection, an Order symbol could be spotted around his neck.

He bows, looking me directly in the eye. "The trip will take a few days, and as such a room has been prepared for you. I will alert you once we arrive in Bristol." He stands himself back upright and moves to the side, gesturing to the ramp while bowing his head.

"Have my things been placed in the room?" I query placing my left hand on my sword's hilt.

The man tilts his head before regaining his composure. "Ah, yes, the books have been placed in and two of my finest men are guarding the room."

"Good, very good. Now, I have no time to lose so I expect to see the sea by the end of the day, understood?" I order, my aura speaking volumes to my mood as my face is covered by my hood.

"Very well my Lord." He accepts, following me up the ramp and pulling it up after the last of the crew board the vessel.

On my way to the only room below deck, I pass the crew, each nodding at me with some degree of respect. Beside my door, as the man had said, is two well-built men each holding an English bill. I move past them and through the door, closing it behind me to see a modest room with a bed, desk and chair but nothing more. Space is a luxury on a cog. On the desk is the books that had been delivered to me at my accommodation, as the information will always be useful and leaving it behind would have been a waste. I sit down on the modestly sized bed, contemplating my moves once I arrive at Bristol.

* * *

On the second day at sea, a knock is heard from my door, followed by a quick shout. I stood from my chair and move to the door, unsheathing my dagger and a couple of throwing knives. I inch slowly to the door, taking each step with caution, using the time to see if I could hear anything out of ordinary. Another knock resounds through my room.

"My Lord, we have an issue, please come topside quickly." The man from before shouts with urgency.

I increase my pace and swing open the door to be greeted by an arrow, which barely misses my head. The captain in the same second ducks to the side of the doorframe, incomplete shock yet unable to inform me as to the origin of the arrow or why he disturbed me. I scout the cargo hold, my gaze analyzing everything in sight. I move out my room and into the open, as I do the trapdoor to the hold opens, followed by a man clad in white robes jumping down and standing directly opposed to me. He says nothing, he merely holds himself high.

"Well, it would seem the Brotherhood heard of my travel. Oh well, it saves me time hunting you down later, let me guess, from the discrepancy with the robes you must be a Master Assassin sent to ensure your plan in Bristol succeeds?" I rationalize to the man while relaxing my stance visibly while keeping my guard up inside.

He spits out of anger before seething. "How dare you bastardise our sacred robes! They were not meant for your kind!" He slides into a combat stance, drawing his hidden blade and a parrying dagger.

The hidden blade, an Assassin's prized weapon. The blade itself was the pinnacle of weaponry within their Brotherhood, equipping all from novices to their master assassins with it. It sits on the wearers underarm, concealed from sight but once needed unsheaths to form a dagger length blade from the wrist.

"It's not a bastardization I assure you, it's an upgrade from that pathetic gear you fools wear." I retort still standing opposite him in a casual stance letting his anger take control of him. "Now, before you die would you mind answering some questions?"

Again the man spits, this time at me hitting the ground a few feet in front of me. He begins to size me up allowing me precious moments to do the same, effectively a stalemate until one of us acts. The ship creaks continually on the waves, wood slamming into wood and the sound of more men topside. The grate above our head shows the crew on their knees and at the mercy of another assassin and a few, of what I can only assume is pirates.

In my momentary lapse of focus, the assassin ahead of me lunges at me, his parrying dagger looking to parry any counter I make, leaving an opening for his hidden blade to find my neck or stomach. I do the same, placing my dagger ahead of me, opting for a defensive stance and welcoming his assault. Once within arms reach I slash my dagger at him, for it to be caught and parried by his own dagger. In the same motion, he forces his arm forward, hoping for a quick fight.

It finds air as I contort out of its path, grabbing onto his arm once able to. He curses, bringing his dagger across my chest in an upwards diagonal slash, for it to find my own dagger in its path. I lock our daggers together, using the shape and style of each to ensure neither of us can back up.

"Now, seeing as we are at an impasse… where is the Brotherhood's base?" I demand, maintaining my grip and the control over the deadlock.

"Ha, I would never tell a Templar, especially you!" The Assassin seethes, attempting to gain an upper hand by flailing his arms.

I sigh, my tone shifting and becoming much darker. "I will ask once more if you fail to answer, you'd best pray to whatever god you worship."

A subtle laugh fills the silence left after my ultimatum, the assassin is unfazed by my words. "You Templars are all the same, acting like your words carry any weight with us. You like so many before you will fail so try your best, scum."

"Oh, I don't think my words carry any weight with you lawless assassins, I was merely giving you a chance to leave alive." As the last word leaves my lips, I twist my dagger, in turn twisting his and disarming him.

As his dagger hits the wooden floor of the ship, I release my grip on his arm in favour of counter-attacking with my hidden weapon. A hidden blade. I push forward, closing the last metre in a second, unsheathing my hidden blade and planting it firmly into his neck. He tries to move, but he is too close and has no time to act. Had he been a few feet further away and it would have been a different ending, but he isn't and such led to his death.

I keep the pressure on my right arm, pushing the blade as deep as possible ensuring his painful defeat. He tries to speak but no words find their way out, only gurgles of air escaping through his now blood-filled mouth. I relent and pull my blade from his neck, once the blade exits the wound, blood gushes from the gash staining the wooden floor and his once pristine robes.

The body hits the floor with a thud, alerting the remaining assassin and pirates topside. They look down through the grate to see me, looking up at them, only my grin on show. A volley of curses exits their mouths, as the assassin jumps down the trapdoor. Unlike the dead assassin, this one does not waste time with words immediately drawing his sword. A crude crusader blade, a remnant of the assassins of Masyaf if nothing else. He begins to circle me, his eyes never leaving my form.

"I grow bored of this game, I'll give you the same chance as the last assassin. Where is your Brotherhood's base?" I ask with great annoyance, not from their actions more their ability to be extremely stubborn until the end.

Like his companion before him, he remains silent when questioned. The only sounds that can be heard are the pirates topside keeping the crew in line and the circling assassins steps around me. The steps were heavy, those of a man with nothing to lose and a Brotherhood of fools to protect. Each step echoed around the creaking ship, all while his gaze attempted to pierce through me. A minute passes, still sizing me up, but unlike his companion, he doesn't hide his weak points. It is either from lacking any real combat experience or he's trying to lure me into attacking those points, with a plan already in his mind to counter.

"I tried to be reasonable, but alas you assassins always look a gift horse in the mouth." I groan with further annoyance, letting my hidden blade finally sheath with blood still dripping from the blade.

I place my dagger back into its sheath, ignoring the circling assassin for a moment, to plan my movements. His most glaring weakness being his open front, yet from my inspection of his robes, it looks like he's a novice, lacking all the armour and gear used by those higher up the assassin ranks. Given that his open front is more than likely something he hasn't planned and is oblivious to the very fact it's easy to exploit.

I draw my sword, the one given to me by Lord Rhys. The blade is a standard longsword, but the hilt itself is adorned with Order regalia and colouring making the blade very much unique. I hold the blade in my right hand, blood from my last kill beginning to seep into the hilts many small crevices. Within moments of me drawing the blade, from behind me the assassin strikes. The man swings his blade downwards, hoping to land a crushing blow splitting my skull. At the last moment, I dodge the attack by stepping to the side and deflecting part of the strike with my own sword. The sound of metal clashing resonates around the ship, drawing the attention of the people topside. Each watching intently.

He backs off, regaining his composure again beginning to circle me, I mirror him and lock my gaze with his. He launched again, swiping his blade horizontally at me, to which I parry and riposte with a quick stab grazing his arm. Blood begins to trickle from the graze, only noticeable because of it staining his robe. For a third time, the assassin lunges at me, this time aiming to impale his blade through my midsection. I step to the right, for him to stop and swing the blade at me, catching me off guard. The blade slices through the air, only stopping once it hits my own sword.

I see a smile creep on the hooded man's face, he thinks he's sized me up and is on top. A sentiment I allow to grow, as an overconfident enemy is more often than not, a simple one to kill. I push back against the stalemate, causing the assassin to lose his balance. In my next movement, I quickly pull out two throwing knives with my left hand and throw them at him. Both landing in his leg, forcing him to let out a shriek of pain but not deterring him from his duty.

He moves back towards the trapdoor, visually rethinking his approach to this battle. Blood from his wounds is now making its way onto the floor, even though all of them are no more than grazes or shallow wounds. His expression, or what I could see of one, is pained, another reason I believe he's a novice.

"If you answer my question, I'll let you leave." I try to reason with the stubborn assassin as I already wasted more time than I wanted to.

"You'll… you'll let me go?" The assassin queries, not letting down his guard but relaxing his expressions.

"That's what I said, now tell me, where is the Brotherhood's hideout?" I repeat the very same question from before.

"The main hideout is in Slough near London. Other small hideouts are run in Bristol, York and Cardiff. Only the Slough one has more than a couple of assassins at any time, and it's the main hideout for recruits and all other assassins not on assignment." The hooded man spills all of the information after sheathing his sword and putting pressure on his leg wounds. "So I can leave right?"

I stride over to the assassin, placing my sword into its sheath after wiping it quickly on my robe and set my hand on his shoulder. "I'm afraid not, as your kind is not long for this world."

Horror overcomes the man's face as he tries to push me away, but fails as my grip proves stronger. I draw my hidden blade and swiftly slice open his throat, letting him go to slam onto the wooden floor with a bloody crunch. Blood pooling around him, inch by inch, seeping deeper into the wood. The pirates topside all look on with shock and confusion, it seems they were strung along on some petty lies by the Brotherhood or promised a great deal of gold for their assistance. The crew, however, don't react, each knowing the outcome yet still fear for their lives, something a servant of the Order shouldn't show.

I move myself to the ladder that is connected to the trapdoor, once there climbing it slowly as to let the realisation of this battle's outcome. They had lost, if two assassins couldn't put me down then how can they? Pirates were not true men, merely boys who had lost their way and ended up on the sea raiding traders who had no way to stop them. I must be their first real challenge.

As the fear continues to mount on their faces as I stand off of the ladder. Once my view settles on the pirates, I take in their numbers. Only six of them were present next to the crew, keeping them on their knees and some even bound by rope. Each of them shows differing levels of fear, from mild to complete hoping for a way to leave this encounter alive.

"You." I raise my hand and point to the pirate who stands in the middle, wearing clothes that had only minor tearing and was for the most part well kept. "I assume you are the leader of this sorry bunch?"

They all look at each other, making faces of confusion and discussing their situation in hushed tones. After a minute the one I pointed to steps forward his sword now drawn and his nerves steeled.

"Put it down, I have no intention of killing you if you untie my crew and leave." I voice while keeping my hands low.

"How the hell do you expect me to believe you when you killed that man after saying the same?" The pirate reasons, his sword now held up to defend his chest.

"You see, I gave both of them a chance to do as I asked when they decided not to listen I killed them. Now, do as I asked or I'll kill you and not stop until you all lie dead on my ship. Understood?" I threaten, unsheathing my hidden blade and two throwing knives.

He thinks for a moment, I've placed his entire crew's lives on his next action something even a hardened captain will find a hard thing to do. Another minute passes before he starts to move, edging back towards his men as he reaches them he nods to his men, each nodding back to show agreeance. I ready my weapons, planning to take out three in one swift action but as I begin to move they all lay down their arms and kneel before me with their hands on their heads.

For a moment I thought they would give me a fair fight, but they didn't they gave up like the dogs they are. The crew behind them still hold their stoic faces, the few untied standing and freeing the rest before going back about their duties. I begin to move forward, to the leader of the pirates but a sound from behind me grabs my attention. It is the captain, a little worse for wear than before but alive and able to go about his job. I let my guard down, about to turn back to the pirates, before I can a blade is shoved through the captain killing him instantly.

The captain is then pushed, slumping over and hitting the deck revealing a hooded man behind him, a third assassin. The man moves off of the ladder and stands in front of the captain's body, now drenching the deck in a thick coat of maroon blood. On his back lay a bow and quiver, the arrow of which resembling the one shot at me when I first left my room. From the man's body structure he looks like a boy, fresh into the world and ready to show his worth, much like the second assassin was. Unlike the second, he possesses an aura about him that forces me to slide into my battle stance, an aura that says he's not afraid.

"Boy, my patience is running thin when it concerns you cravens, now do what is right and gut yourself." I order him, my stare matching his through our hoods.

He shakes his head and pulls his bow off of his back, taking an arrow out of his quiver too. He places the arrow onto the bow, pulling it back and aiming it at me, not a hint of fear on his face as he does. With not a moment to lose he lets the arrow loose. The arrow glides through the air finding little to resist its power but to my amusement the arrow sails past and hits the pirate captain in the heart. I turn my head, to see the man fall and force the arrow through his chest and out of the back, spraying more blood over the deck.

For the mere second I turned away the assassin leaps at me, his hidden blade already out and sights locked onto my neck for a quick kill. I push his hand out of the way and kick him into the stomach, sending him back into the now pooled blood. He quickly jumps back to his feet, charging me again with his blade still drawn. I throw my knives at him, he dodges the first but the second found its way into the top of his right leg, not stopping his charge nor hindering it.

He pushes his charge entering my reach to which I attempt to grab his arm only to be met with air and a swift kick to the gut. His next strike I was able to stop, grabbing his hand and pulling him close to me. As we stand face to face I quickly plunge my hidden blade into his gut, the blade itself piercing his kidney and killing him. His limp body clings to me for support as the blood begins to stain our robes.

"Bastard Templar, your..." He coughs, blood leaving his mouth with spittle. "Order… will... fall."

"You were a rare case, you could have been a good Templar, but you joined the Brotherhood. A pity." I push my blade deeper as he roars in agony.

"I never… had… a choice… just like you." He manages to voice, the blood now taking full control of his mouth and he relents on his grip.

The boy falls to the ground and lands on his back, the pool of the captain's blood now merging with his. The boy's life drains into the wood and down into the cargo hold, the information he held now forever secure. Just like that of the pirate captains, his secrets now to lie in the blood covering the deck. I begin to move to the remaining pirates as I delve into my thoughts.

"That boy really knew how to keep the truth from those who sought it, a true waste indeed." I muse to myself, as I near the remaining pirates each now drenched in fear and urine.

I draw my longsword and let it bask in the sun's embrace before turning it to the first pirate's neck, severing their head clean off in one swing. Panic starts to take hold of the rest as I take the next swing, hitting the next pirate in the chest, cutting deep and releasing a spray of blood. He falls to the deck, prompting the rest to retreat to the port side of the ship, standing directly at the edge.

I slithered across the deck to them, my sword by my side as I inch closer with every step. The men now all on their knees begging for their lives, one even praying to the gods for a divine intervention, one that will never come. I hold my sword up, bringing it down crashing onto the head of the man in the centre, a thick spray of blood covers the last two remaining pirates. I yank the sword out of the head and clean it with my robes, the blood merging into the fabrics, then I sheath it on my belt.

I move both of my hands to my back, pulling out both of my daggers, they too basking in the sun's gleam. I walk forward, placing my foot on the chest of the pirate sat dead in the centre, kicking him into the sea. After the body hits the water, I turn and drop my daggers into the chest of each of the last pirates, a quick death but not a clean one.

I move myself to the centre of the ship and shout. "All of you front and centre!" The crew all move into formation in front me and stand at attention. "Which one of you sorry lot is the first mate?"

A man strides forward and reenters attention. "I am Ser, and I shall ensure we reach Bristol in record time."

"Good, now the rest of you clean this trash up and search the bodies, I want anything they have delivered to my room." I demand of the crew, turning to leave to the cargo hold and then my room.

* * *

A/N: As TangentTeam goes, we have been able to improve each other's writing by peer review and help from a beta or two. However, what we seem to lack is a reader's perspective and would like as many of you as possible to give us reviews. Positive or negative. Positive words of praise on things we've done right, or negative words of wisdom on things that could be improved. Of course, also just reading what you guys think of the story is a good boon to our spirits and helps us to continue writing the stories you like. Thanks for helping us out! - One


	2. Chapter II:

Bristol, a city full to the brim with traders from across the seas from Ireland to France. That though is not what I know it for, I know it for the vile creatures that lurk in it's shadows killing those who support order and peace, the Assassins. They dug their blades into the city and look to sever the Order's control over this county and further the entire region so they can rebuild their dying Brotherhood.

The remainder of the voyage is peaceful and true to the new captains word we made it to land quicker than I had been told. I spent the time looking through the few scrolls and books the crew gave me from the bodies of the Assassins. They prove useful, filling in details about the assassination of the Lord of Bristol, while also detailing their order to find and silence me. It would seem that the very Master Assassin I was ordered to slay has the insight to order my death to prevent their plan from failing. A pity they sent men unable to accomplish such a feat.

The ship ushers itself into the port, navigating the coast and sliding into the dock. The crew set about their duties, one jumps off onto the dock and awaits a rope to be thrown by another. Said other throws the rope and together they help bring the ship to a stop and anchor it firmly to the dock.

I stand firmly at the front of ship as the crew finishes preparing my things and creating a ramp to leave the vessel. The new captain stands beside me barking orders all while informing me of where the Order's residence in the city is located and that the Order's representative will be expecting me.

"Ser Braydon, Ser Jordan Williams will be expecting you at the Order's residence in the center of the city. I would advise watching your tongue around him, the previous Captain told me he's a man who holds disdain for those younger than him yet are his superiors." The man advises me holding a letter in his hand out for me to take, the Order's symbol sealing the envelope shut.

I turn my gaze to the Captain, letting it burrow into him as the uncertainty of my emotions hidden further by my hood. "If he has such qualms with those better than himself let him voice as such to me." I move my attention past the pettiness and take the letter from him. "When did this letter arrive? We were at sea for three days."

"It was in the former Captain's jacket, and from what I could tell from looking at the envelope it was meant to be kept hidden from you." The man chooses his words carefully, knowing they will arouse suspicion of the entire crew but knowing that had to be said.

I break the seal and draw the letter from the envelope. I read it with haste, the deeper into the letter the greater my inner anger grew. It is from the very Assassin I suspected of ordering my death while at sea, Brandon Edwards. The former captain then resealed the letter with the Order's seal hiding his involvement, yet it leaves out that his death is a part of the failsafe plan. I can only speculate that they didn't expect my survival, nor the man keeping the letter to begin with.

I crush the letter in my hand, letting curses take ahold of my tongue while looking to the city. The assassins have infiltrated the very crew that were tasked with bringing me here, yet how did they achieve such a feat. Never before has it been done, but I move my thoughts on and focus on making my way to the Order's residence, as there some of my questions will be answered.

* * *

 _Atop a building facing the docks._

" _It seems he yet lives, and three of ours lie dead at sea. Unless they never managed to intercept him which seems rather unlikely to me." A man clad in white robes voices to the man next to him, he too clad in the white robes of an assassin._

" _It would seem that way, yet it sends the mind racing thinking such a failure could perform so well when faced with a Master Assassin and two promising Novices." The second man sighs heavily, a sign of his age. "Nevertheless we will need to push forward with our task, the Lord must lie dead at tomorrow's parade or we will fail to revive our Brotherhood in this part of England."_

 _The first man nods, turning to face away from the port. "Well we had best start our preparations as we now number two, not the five we had hoped for."_

" _Again you are correct, let us make for our sanctuary." The second man takes the first leap, landing on the building next to the first and makes his way to their base._

* * *

The Order's residence, is more of a large mansion that sits well next to the center of town and the market district. The gardens surrounding the front and sides were well kept and brought such colour to the entire building. To the left of the large oak doors is a flag pole with the cross of St George flapping in the mild wind. The mansion itself was recently built, set in a style new to the entire county itself. A dark stone is used for the lower half of the manor, windows jutting out in a wood that shares a similar colour to the stone while also remaining separate to anyone who gaze lands upon it. The top half was a white painted stone, with wooden panels sectioning parts to add style and in some cases extra support.

I exit the carriage that brought me from the docks, striding to the large doors. Flanking both sides is two fully armoured guards, armour not dissimilar to that of the English King's men-at-arms. They both give a curt nod while opening the doors and gesturing for me to enter. Once inside a servant walks over to me and bows.

"Ah, Ser Braydon I believe?" The man asks with a sense of hesitation in his voice.

"Skip the pleasantries, I have business with Ser Jordan and want it done with quickly." I demand more than ask moving past him and deeper into the grand foyer.

"Oh of course Ser." The servant acquiesced catching up to me and leading me to the main hall.

The walk is short yet the mansions beauty outside pales to the marble floors and glorious wooden walls of the interior. Paintings adorn each wall, varying from landscapes and pieces of rising artists, as we finally stop at the entrance to the hall. The servant opens the door gracefully and waits for me to enter to follow behind.

"Ser Jordan, Ser Braydon is here as you said, shall I get you anything?" He announces me before attending to his lord.

Jordan Williams is a short man, shorter than most at five foot two, but what he lacks in height he makes up in his devotion to the Order and anything they ask of him. A lean man obviously well versed with combat or at the very least athletic pastimes. His face is that of a man with no peer, strong jawline and dashing auburn slicked back hair with piercing green eyes that could ease any soul. The clothes he wore were typical for any noble in England, fine cotton tunic with black cotton pants, tucked nicely into well crafted leather boots. Around his waist is a leather belt that holds a pouch and a steel longsword, crafted in typical Order fashion.

"No, leave us, I'm sure _Ser Braydon_ and I have much to discuss and the sooner we can start the better." He orders, his back to the door I enter through and staying as such until the door can be heard to close. "Why should I help you _welp_?"

I move deeper into the hall only stopping once right behind the man. "I'd watch your tongue Jordan, I will not hesitate to discard you and take what I need. I doubt the Order will care much as long as I succeed."

He turns his head, looking over his shoulder at me, his eyes filled with disdain just as the Captain had informed me. "Petty threats, I expected as such from you. The information requested of me is on the table over there, take it and leave. I've had enough of you."

"Don't try to assert rule over me, as you well know I outrank you not just in title but in skill." I begin letting my hidden blade slide out of its sheath. "Treat me with the respect I earned fulfilling the Order's directives. Now tell me what the Assassins are planning and do it quickly."

Jordan sighs knowing he has no leg to stand on in this debate. "Fine, the Assassins have as you know sent men to assassinate the current Lord of Bristol, and replace him with his son, an Assassin backed lordling. They plan to strike at the Lord's Parade tomorrow, celebrating his new child's birth." He quickly explains turning now to face me in full. "The Order has instructed me to tell you that the assassination is to be allowed."

"For what purpose? I know this man harbours no favour for the Order yet letting him be replaced by a Lordling with Assassin support is better?" I question, turning to my thoughts resheathing my hidden blade.

"No, but his second son has ambition, ambition that will serve the Order if we help him rise to Lordship." Jordan elaborates, waving his hand as he talks. "So let the Lord die and deal with the Assassins alone and destroy their pesky hideout, I will ensure the correct lordling ascends to the throne."

"I have a better plan, I'll deal with the Assassins now and kill the Lord myself. It will save us time and I can get back to dealing with the main problem, the Assassin Sanctuary in Slough." I lay out a plan, thinking of the finer details before being interrupted.

"Do so in Assassin robes not your bastardization of them, that way the blame cannot be shifted from their dying Brotherhood." Jordan adds turning to the table and walking over to it.

I follow him over to the table and take the book as he hands it to me, pocketing it and moving to leave. "May the Father of Understanding guide us."

Jordan mirrors the sentiment, with a little less disdain than before. I exit the room and stride through the halls and into the grand foyer ignoring the servant who follows behind me. He swiftly opens the door and bows as I leave the mansion and start to climb the building itself. I do so with haste and perch on the edge of the rooftop before bringing out the book Jordan gave me. It contains locations of the parade and possible locations of the Assassin's hideout, each at the edge of the city.

* * *

Four hours pass, and two of the locations given to me by Jordan turned out to be incorrect and a waste of my time. Only two more are listed and both close to another but of the other side of Bristol, at least an hour away from me and three at the most yet worth the extra time to end their lives. I immediately set off, leaping from roof to roof, ignoring the cities guards and taking every shortcut that presents itself. For large portions of the run the rooftops were empty and no one notices me until I near the first of the last two markers.

I stop a few rooftops away from the area marked on my map. I kneel and survey my surroundings and check for guards and watch as the ones present move. The patrols around the marker are noticeably less than the rest of the city, and on top of that the guards all but avoid the building marked on my map. I move closer leaping across the small gap to the next building and can now see directly the building in question. No doors can be seen nor any windows not bordered up, to anyone looking at it, they would assume it's abandoned.

I again move closer, taking a running leap and landing on top of the marked building. True to my thoughts an Assassin symbol adorns the top of the roof, next to a trapdoor locked by a bolt. I move my head close to it, listening in for any sound or tell that the building was in use.

After a few minutes a voice can be heard, the voice of a man talking to another or himself, but I could not decipher exactly what he was talking about. I wait a further couple of minutes before my patience ran out. I begin to slowly open the bolt, the metal clashing against each other yet still silently enough not to alert whoever is in the building. It takes about a minute to open the bolt quietly, once fully open I open the trapdoor to the surprise of the two men in white robes below. They look up in shock, both jumping back as I land in front of them.

"Assassins!" I seethe and draw my daggers from my belt, holding one in an icepick grip and the other in a standard grip.

"Templar!" The first Assassin barks drawing his hidden blade and entering a combat stance, watching me carefully while his eyes never leave me.

The second Assassin stays his blade and keeps his casual stance. "You found us, a pity. Can you tell us what has become of our Assassins that should of intercepted your journey here?"

Instinctively my eyes lock onto the first assassin. "Now why would I tell you that?" I question the second.

"Well, a number of reasons I'm sure, but I'll go for old time sakes?" The second assassin articulates, a hint of arrogance in his voice drawing my eyes from the would be aggressor.

"Old time sake? What could you possibly mean by that?" I interrogate, my voice fills with anger at the very notion. "I know none of your kind, the only ones I've met I've killed."

He laughs and his companion is rigid in his combat stance ignoring the conversation. "Forgotten me already? A shame, it was the only thing keeping you alive." As he finishes he draws his sword and enters a regal stance, that of an over confident Lord.

Once he feels comfortable in his stance, he nods to his companion receiving one in return as they both launch themselves at me. The second assassin swings his blade elegantly at me, gliding through the air with a grace that most don't and never will have. I swiftly raise the dagger in my left hand and parry the attack, letting the blade slide down mine with an audible sound of metal clashing. He continues his assault, each time I'm barely able to parry all while being pushed back with each swing. After the eighth slash I feel the wall behind me, the realisation of having nowhere to fall back hit me.

Seeing this the second assassin locks his blade onto mine with a final swing of his sword, pinning me in place. I move my right dagger to try and cut across his front, but to my dismay its met with his hand holding it inches away from his gut. The first assassin now joins the fray, his hidden blade poised and ready to force itself into my neck. He lunges the blade at me, within inches of my neck as I move slightly, causing the blade to peirce the wall and lodge itself in it.

The assassin tries to pull out the blade, much to his annoyance it doesn't budge. I use it to take advantage and push back with all my force against the second assassin, barley knocking him off balance, but enough to move and counter attack. The assassin back steps trying to keep himself steady as I side step, my dagger poised and aimed at his neck. He tries to act, bringing his bade up to deflect mine, which to my chagrin it does, pushing my blade into his shoulder. He lets out a wail of pain and drops his sword, using the hand now free to push me away.

The first sees this and takes off his gauntlet and draws his own sword, knowing the time spent attempting to free his hidden blade has led to their advantage turning into a fair fight. I stumble back, but before the second assassin can move I round and plant my foot firmly into the side of his head, knocking him out. The last assassin, launches himself at me as my foot connects, his balde held high ready to come down and spilt my head in two. I leap back once my attention fully turned to him, the blade grazing my front leaving a along part of my face with my hood moving just out of the way to miss the blade.

Blood begins to pool between us from the second man's shoulder wound, not much is present but enough to be noticed. For a few moments we both lock gazes, mentally preparing for the final stretch of the fight, as we both know that one of us will leave while the other will be left rotting here. The silence places us both on edge, but as quickly as it came it leaves with both of us charging the other. Our blades clash as we meet in the small pool of blood, the metal tang of weapons parrying each other. Each hit is repealed and after a minute we both begin to become frustrated. We part for a second but as we come back together the best thing happens, the assassin slips in the blood and lands hard on his back. I fail to stop and trip on his body, landing on my hand and knees.

Seconds pass as I pick myself up, wipe myself down and turn around to see the assassin still prone on his back, with no signs of standing anytime soon. I sigh knowing this will make things easier, I then place my blades back into their sheaths on my belt and move to the wall where the assassin's gauntlet and hidden blade remains stuck hanging. The blade is much akin to mine with the only difference being its design, it was not made by the English Brotherhood that I am sure of. I begin to pry the hidden blade out of the wall, which proves to be a stubborn task as it takes over five minutes to finally remove it.

I begin to take it off of the gauntlet as said gauntlet wouldn't prove worthwhile to sell and my own is of better quality. The hidden blade however would prove to be a great asset as having a second shall allow a better approach to most situations I will find myself in. I slowly attach the blade to my free gauntlet, clamping it firmly and ensuring it sits well and is not obstructed. Once done I move over to the first assassin who still lies prone on the floor. I unsheath the new hidden blade, which is sat on my left arm, kneeling next to the man and thrusting the blade into his neck. A swift death but not one he deserves.

I stand and survey the room, looking for anything I could use, any plans or a detailed list of their bases and their exact locations. A table in the corner of the small room is the only thing that takes ahold of my attention, to which I move over to and begin to rummage through to see what it contains. I spend a few minutes looking, finding various letters and a book which details the coming and going of assassins in this region of England, but no names only dates of arrival and departure and what seems like a codeword assigned to each.

"They sure know how to keep anonymity of their brothers, a shame but with these letters I can at least follow their planned method of assassination for the Lord. That should keep up the ruse, now to find a set of their worthless robes." I voice aloud, letting my thoughts leave while I read through the letter detailing the orders for the assassin's I just dealt with, leaving the rest for once I return to the residence.

I place the letters and book into my pouch, filling it and beginning to search the other rooms for a set of robes. The other rooms are near empty expect for a few beds and a dresser in each room, which luckily for me contain spare robes. I take the robe, place it over my shoulder and move myself back to the main room to take one last look at the bodies to make sure they're dead. The first lies dead still, blood soaked into every inch of his back and no sign of life. The second however is still breathing with his chest raising and lowering in between each breath, but the blood beneath him shows he's close to death. I stride over and kneel at his side, my hidden blade sliding out of its sheath and resting on his neck nearly piercing the flesh.

I contemplate plunging the blade deep into his and neck ending his life but a thought nags at me, everytime I ready to act the thought rises and stops me. For once I can not act all because of the words that left the second assassin just before we fought. 'For old time sake' is all that it took and my lust to know why aggravates me. As I break out of my thoughts I hear the man cough and start to wake, I curse under my breath and dig my blade into his neck. Blood spurts out with vigour before letting up after a few seconds, turning into a slow stream. The secrets the man held, just like his companions, are lost to me, something that vexes me greatly.

"Now that they have been dealt with, I will need to return to the Order's residence before I deal with the Lord." I think aloud standing and making my way to the ladder attached to the trapdoor before looking back at the bodies. "I will have my questions answered soon enough."

I turn back and exit through the trapdoor, closing it gently and locking the latch. As I feel the latch lock itself firmly I stand and take in the cities landscape in the moons light, torches lighting the patrols and key parts of the city. The sea air calming my annoyance as I begin my trek back to the Order's residence.

* * *

I arrive at the rooftop opposite of the mansion after an hour or so, the dark completely masks my presence from anyone. The residence's front was lit by a few torches attached to the building and by one held by one of the two guards stood in front of the door. I quickly survey the surroundings, checking for city guards before leaping from the roof and landing on the ground. The guards stood in front of the mansion look forward and stand alert from the sound of my landing. The one holding the torch edges forward, his sword now drawn and the torch held ahead of him lighting the area near me. It takes only a moment for him to see me and stop, the lighting hitting the Orders cross and showing my allegiance. My robes however lead the man to stay heisitent of my intentions.

"Can I help you, Ser?" The guard tactfully asks, keeping his distance and his blade at the ready.

"Yes, open the door and inform Ser Jordan Williams that I wish to speak with him." I order with a stern tone, the words visibly cowing him.

"Of course, who shall I say is asking for his presence?" He questions, relaxing his stance enough to hide his fear.

"He'll know who, while you needn't be informed, now open the door." I bark, striding past the guard and to the second who bows slightly and opens the door. "I'll be in the main hall and I expect him post-haste."

The first guard bows and follows behind me and closes the door before taking to the stairs to fetch Jordan. The interior was dimly lit and the beauty it held within the day is dwarfed by the ambiance from the candle light. I make my way quickly to the main hall and push the great doors open to reveal a dark hall with no light in sight. I saunter in and move to a table at the far side of the room only visible because of the light escaping from the hall, but only slightly. Once at the table, I turn around and lean on it, crossing my arms and begin my wait for what I can only assume will be a livid Jordan.

Time passes slowly with the sounds of night my only companions while I wait, the events of the night looping over and over in my head. I think on the words that halted my blade but even with the deepest of thought, I cannot come to a conclusion. However during my recounting of the night I remember I have a few letters left to open from the assassin's hideout. I open my pouch and rummage around for them, pulling them out once I find them and begin to read each one.

The first few letters contain nothing of use apart from assassin movements, of which there are not many. The Order has been very efficient with dealing with them and now it means more than ever given the state of the English monarchy. For every letter I read I grow bored as they each mirror the others in use, but the final letter sets my anger ablaze. The very note contains a deep rooted plot against Jordan and the Order in Bristol. One they have been working on for months all to lead us to cementing support for them in this region and soon enough the whole of England.

As I begin to pace, a hastily dressed Jordan enters the room with an expression mirroring my own, one of deep anger. He prepares to shout at me but once he lays his eyes on me, he fails to find the words and he changes his whole expression. I stop as Jordan collects his thoughts enough to talk.

"What's wrong with you Braydon? I didn't think the Order's favourite could-" Jordan attempts to question with a look of extreme confusion taking ahold of his features.

"Quiet you utter fool!" I roar letting my temper gets the better of my reason. "How could this go unnoticed for so long? Your lack of foresight and intelligence caused me to walk right into a fucking lose-lose situation." I launch the letter towards him and start to pace again. "Both of the Lord's son's are assassin backed, and to make it worse so is their mother! That baby is our only chance at keeping our control. Lucky for us that letter details the lordlings both being disinherited for the newborn giving us a plan."

The letter flies through the air and hits Jordan in the chest before fluttering to the ground. He watches and waists before picking it up and quickly perusing the letter, his expression dropping further with each sentence he reads. He finishes reading the note and drops his arm to his side.

"Fuck, I've been played by those curs. That damned lordling has doomed our control over this county." Jordan curses before pacing himself.

"The Lord must live, and if this ledger I took is anything to go by, there is still one assassin who remains in this city and I have no intention of letting them live. Organize more guards for the parade and I don't care if you have to strong arm the damned city guards, make it happen!" I begin to strategize, my hand firmly on my chin thinking of every way this could go for us.

"A third assassin? Two is rare yet a third as well, this does not bode well for the Order, yet if you attend the parade I'm sure you will find him. Although I don't like the odds we have been presented with. I will do my best to find more guards but it might not deter them." Jordan reasons leaving his own disregard for me out of the matter. "Shall I inform the city guard of your presence or?"

I stop pacing once I reach the table I was originally leant against. "No, but I shall be infiltrating the Lord's manor. I have a few question for our lordling _friend_ and I'm sure this is the best time to ask them and if they are absent the Lady will do." I take back my position on the table drawing my hidden blade and pulling out a whetstone, using the stone to sharpen my blade. "I will need you to attend the parade also, and bring your sister she will need to be acclimated with this region sooner rather than later."

Jordan stands alert looking at me with ever questioning eyes. "Judy? What possible reason do you have for asking me to bring her with me?" His questioning eyes soon turn into worry for his sister.

"She's to take the oath soon, correct? Then she had best know what a single failure can cause for our Order, and the cost of said failure." I quickly return to him with little compassion in each word.

"Ah, then I understand and if I may ask what _cost_ can I expect?" Jordan asks moving himself over to a chair and sitting, a sigh of relief exits his mouth once sat.

"Having me fix this mess should suffice, that alone will damage your pride and redouble your efforts for the Order. " I smirk as I resheath my blade and place the wetstone back into my pouch. "I'll be off, and remember to bring a few of the Order's guard with you, you might need them."

Before Jordan has a chance to respond, I make a swift exit from the room. My pace is set so high the candles flicker as I pass, and after only a few seconds I find myself next to the main staircase. The entrance is a cloaked as darkness as every other room yet there was an anomaly. I am able to make out a figure in the corner of the room, sat with their legs crossed and their one foot tapping silently. The aura that surrounds the figure is that of youth yet wisdom exceeding their age.

I stay stood next to the staircase, my hood up as it always is and my hidden blade ready to take a life at a moments notice. For a small amount of time, silence covers the stare down, as neither the figure or myself ready to move closer to the other. Footsteps begin to fill the void, and with each step grow louder. Although as they once grew louder they grew softer and eventually dissipated leaving only the vacuum of silence.

The figure is the first to break the stillness, standing out of the chair and striding to the centre of the large oak doors. As they move the small amount of light hits her dark ruby dress and the many gemstones sewn into it. From the little I could see, the dress is set in the same style as those worn by most noble ladies. A corset bound dress with a very plump bottom hiding the woman's legs, accentuating her womanly features. The woman places her hands on her hips and again the void takes over.

I emerge from the darkness the stairs cast and into the open room. "Lady Judy Williams I presume?" I voice striding into the center of the room, my hood masking any notable features.

The closer I got the more of her I could see, and her appearance was far more noble than I first thought. Her face was pale yet filled with vibrant colour and only a hint of makeup, something I found odd for a lady. Her iris' are a warm and welcoming ice blue nearly lost in the whites of her eyes. Her alluring auburn hair tied up in a bun that sits high on the back of her head.

"It seems you are well informed, Ser Braydon Cooper, what has you up so early? A meeting at such an hour is not how my brother conducts his business, actually it's quite the opposite." Judy explains with a great deal of etiquette on display.

I continue the saunter over to Judy's front. "I'm sure your brother will inform you if he deems it necessary, however I have an urgent matter to attend to so if you would stand aside." I return with the same level of etiquette and motion to the side with my arm.

Judy's expression changes from that of a lady to that of schemer. "Oh, but he never tells me anything, I'm sure you wouldn't disappoint a lady by ignoring her question?" She begins to bat her eyelashes and grabs my arm.

"I have and I am." I remark attempting to pull my arm free and push her out of the way, but her grip stays tight. "Now, I'll only ask once more, please move aside so I may leave." My words turns stern and my aura mirrors it, showing they brocker no argument.

She begins to pout, something I did not expect to see on a nobles face who is soon to be a part of the Order. "Well that's just not fair, if I'm to be helping my brother soon you should have to tell me! He is your superior after all!" The pouting quickly turns into a small tantrum, one I don't intend to let slide.

Judy let's go of my arm and pushes me back, her face turning a dark shade of red and her hands both clenched into fists. The scene reminds me of a child who's just been denied a sweet or whatever else they wanted. In any other moment I would laugh and leave, but given the circumstances surrounding this and her eventually joining of the Order, she has to be disciplined. I sigh and place my hand on my chin, thinking of the dishonor she could bring to the Order and how to deal with it but before I get too deep in thought I see her begin to throw a punch.

I meet her punch with my hand, grasping her fist and twisting her arm. She whines in pain as I contort her arm and spin her around, with her arm now placed across her back to restrict her movement and possible actions. The metal tang of my hidden blade echos in the darkness as it slides out of the sheath, to which I then place it at her neck. The cold blade sets her on edge and her anger and annoyance at being denied information turns to fear.

"Calm yourself, you are no longer a child woman!" I state swiftly while I let the blade rest on her neck, any sudden movement would result in death. "I don't know what your brother has told you nor do I patically care, but know this he is not my superior." The last few words laced with venom.

Judy starts to turn stark white, all the vibrant colour that once made her face a thing of beauty, drain from her face. Her breathing turns heavy the longer I keep my blade on her throat, yet she makes no attempt to move or speak. Something the last few minutes would contradict. I let another few minutes pass take my balde from her neck and release her arm, watching her crumble to her knees. There she stays as I stride past her and leave through the large doors, starting the trek to the Lord's manor.

* * *

The night still holds control over the sky, with no light except from the moon slipping through the thick layer of clouds. The city is still very much asleep, and the guard patrols that were lacking earlier are now in full swing. Large groups of guards patrol the outskirts of the manor and each look far better equipped than then guards I saw when traveling to the assassin sanctuary. The trip itself was as simple and quiet as before, as no one was manning the rooftops. I stop at the outskirts of the manor, on the rooftop of a notable residence, much akin to the Order's mansion.

The Lord's manor itself has seen many winters and summers, as shown by the colouration of the wood and stone used to build it. The architecture of it also mirrors age as it is very much akin to the manors the Normans built once they secured England back in 1066, over four hundred years ago. However it has seen change, as parts of the manor are new or have been added in the last century, adding a sense of growth. The gardens, or what I would call to be the garden, is filled with every colour imaginable illuminated by the various torches placed around.

I scout the manor's saurondings for well over ten minutes, tracking each of the patrols and making note of anything that I can use to my advantage. The only one of which would be the ease of access into the manor itself once past the guards, seeing as all of the windows on the top floor are wide open. However, one problem is still very much apparent to me, which rooms do the lordlings occupied if any and are they awake, not that the latter will pose that much of an issue.

With all the information now in my posession, I make my move on the manor by first dropping to the street and using the darkness as my cloak. Only a slight noise is made as I hit the ground, luckily for me no one heard it. I stick close to the building as a guard patrol passes, their torches burning brightly and carving a path through the void of the night. The light hits my legs yet the guards notice nothing and keep to their provided route. Their armour's rattling masking my footsteps as I move to the manor's fence. Which I promptly scale and land softly on the grass on the other side. I stay low and slowly maneuver myself through the colourful garden, using the tall flowers to mask some of myself from prying eyes.

I reach the edge of the garden and exit onto a cobble pathway that I can only assume goes around the entire manor. I stop once on the other side of the pathway, next to the manors itself, but to my misfortune a bright orange glow can be seen from around the manors corner around twenty meters from me. I am forced to decide on a course of action, do I hide myself in the garden and hope they don't spot me, kill them or climb the manor and wait it out on the roof. I choose the later and quickly sprint for the manor side, using all my muscles to scale the wall as fast as I possibly can. The light inches closer and closer to the spot I was once at, as I sit on the edge of the roof watching the guards pass by completely unaware of my presence. If only by a small margin.

From my new position, I again begin to think of a plan of how to attain the information I came for without causing a scene or alerting the Lord. I sit for arnoud eight minutes before I hear a conversation coming from a window directly below me. The conversation, from the limited amount I could hear before it petered out, was between a woman and a man whose voice I recognise. My mind quickly turns from thinking of a plan to assessing the voice and trying to place it to a person. This very distraction costs me another few moments before I snap back to reality and start my descent from the roof and into the manor through the very window the two walked past.

I hang just below the windowsill and peer over checking for any signs of a guard or the two from before. None show themselves so I pull myself up and clamber in, keeping low and my back to the wall. I again hear the sound of talking, this time slightly muffled by a closed door, yet again it entices me to see what information it holds if any.

"That voice… I must know if it's _him_." I mutter to myself, while sighing as quietly as I can.

I begin to move down the hall, carefully placing each step as to not make a sound. I inch closer with each stride, the voices get louder and as I am about to reach the door another sound rattles through the hall. The sound of chainmail clanging about and hitting the wearers other pieces of armour and equipment, creating an orchestra of metal twangs. Unlike before, I cannot retreat to the safety of a garden or climb the manor to hide, no, I'm forced to act. I quickly finish the rest of the distance between myself and the door and push into the room, closing the door behind me.

The room itself was rather large, with a large oak table and chairs situated in the middle and both the man and woman I could here sat at it. The woman was dressed in a typical noble dress, adorned with gems and made from the finest fabrics she could afford. While the man was clad in the white robe of the assassins, yet with slight modifications. What stood out the most was that his hood was down revealing his identity to me, something an assassin would hazard to do at the best of times. My presence did not go unnoticed, both were facing the door with confusion, yet as time passes by the man stands and places his hood back over his head.

"Damn, I thought you said you doubled the guard?" The man sneers, taking a few steps back to access the situation he's found himself in.

The lady's confusion sticks as I see her visibly try to make out what is happening in front of her. "I did, but who exactly is this intruder that it places you on edge so?" She questions her guest, still not fully realising what is going on.

I stand from my crouch and walk closer to the the table, with each step the man moves back the same amount. He intends to keep his distance, something I agree with now that my desire to know if he was who I believed him to be has been confirmed.

"He's the very reason I am here now, and not with my companion. He killed him in cold blood and looted the sanctuary, so call for the damn guards!" The man seethes with a deep growl, his age showing through.

"Brandon Edwards, it's been while hasn't it." I remark, allowing the very statement to sink in before continuing. "You're right, I did kill him and the other as well, however you're assassins and your kind deserves nothing more than death." I start to circle the table towards the lady, who jumps to her feet and tries to run out of the room.

She attempts to flee in my direction, running right into me. I react quickly and grab her arm and force it behind her back, much like I did with Jordan's younger sister. I push her to her knees, letting go of her arm to draw my blade, all in one fluid motion. I rest the tip of the blade on her shoulder, my sword now the only thing stopping her escape.

"So tell me Lady… ah yes I never took the time to learn your houses name, but alas it matters not. Now, what reason could you possible have to collude with such filth?" I interrogate, disdain apparent in each word while ignoring the aging assassin.

The lady begins to cower, whimpering silently with tears rolling down her face as she looks to Brandon for assistance. To her dismay he does nothing, even he can see he's not in a position to stop me. The entire atmosphere in the room continues to fall from tense to extremely tense, with my target now entering his battle stance. The metal tang of his hidden blade leaving his sheathe soothes me, my body now pulsing with adrenaline.

Brandon places his arm with the hidden blade drawn behind him, and begins to move closer to me. "You and your damned Order knows no boundaries do they? Not only did you kill my brothers, you dared to intrude on the Lord's manor!" He stops once a few metres away, still in his combat stance.

"Oh, so you care for the Lord?" I question rhetorically, sliding my balde closer to the Lady's neck. "Don't act all high and mighty assassin, I know why you are here and I know that the Lady is not an innocent. I cannot allow you to leave here alive as you know very well." The hidden blade on my left arm shoots out of its sheath, lying in wait to strike.

"Ha, you are nothing more than a welp to me boy. I taught you everything you know and you'll never best me, so step aside and let the lady leave so I can dispose of you." Brandon lets out of a short laugh, before focusing on the situation.

I let my hidden blade sheathe itself, before speaking. "Well, I was going to let her live as she had information I wanted, but now that you're here she's useless to me. On top of that, she's a traitor to the Crown, so I think she'll find this a fair punishment." In the same second the last word leaves my lips, I grab the Lady by her hair and pull on it tightly revealing her neck.

In the next moment I bring my sword up to her throat and drag it across quickly, creating a waterfall of crimson. The blood hits the floor with such haste, as I let her spasming body fall to the floor. The body hits the floor with a slight thud with a pool of blood now forming around it and seeping through the wooden floor. A sign that I need to hurry up and deal with the real threat. Within a moment of the body hitting the floor Brandon lunges at me with his hidden blade poised to strike at my neck. I push his arm out of the way yet he grabs onto me with his other arm and shoves me into the door. The force from both of us hitting the door, snaps it off of its hinges and crashing into the main hallway.

The door lands onto the floor followed by myself and Brandon. I place my feet under him and shove him off of me, rolling out of his reach and swiftly regaining my footing. He does the same, unsheathing his hidden blade again and readying himself. In the scuffle I dropped my sword, leaving me in the same position as my advisory.

"Tell me boy, was it worth it? We gave you the chance to fade into society and live a normal life, yet you chose to stand against us." Brandon's tone conveyed his anger with deeply laced venom.

Not waiting for my reply, he again launches himself at me with great vigor. His blade aimed at the same spot as before, hoping to land the blow and be done with this whole affair. I side step his strike, using the momentum to land a punch on his abdomen sending him back a short distance. Brandon returns with a stiff right hand to my cheek, causing me to lose my balance slightly. Which he uses to again plunge his hidden blade into my neck. For the second time I move out of the way but only barley. The fight quickly turns into a back and forth, each of us pushing the other back until we both take a step back.

"It _is_ worth it. The Order has shown me how flawed your Brotherhood is, how misguided and how utterly wrong they truly are. If I was given this choice again I'd choose the Order each and every time." I calmly state, my anger at Brandon reaching the point of complete calm.

Armour rattling and clashing against another become vividly clear as we continue to stare at each other. They sauronded us, the only route out of the mansion now being the windows, which in the next moment Brandon darts for. I mirror his action, running straight at him and cut him off, I grab his torso and slam him into the side of the window frame. I draw my hidden blade in the next second and aim it for his gut, he starts to struggle as the guards begin to move closer to us.

"It's time you say your prayers Brandon, because you'll not get another chance." With those words I impale my blade into his gut and force his dying body out of the window.


End file.
